At the same time David, King of Scotland, recollecting the oath to Maude, which he and Stephen had together sworn, took up arms in her cause, and invaded England, forcing the inhabitants to take the oath of allegiance. His troops were a fearfully wild, untamed race, undisciplined and cruel, and it was a dreadful thing to let loose such a host of savage marauders without any possibility of restraining them.

The Galwegians, Picts by race, were the worst; but the Highlanders and Borderers were also dreadfully cruel: and the English armed to protect themselves against the inroad of their ancient foes.

The clergy of the North even deemed it a sacred war, and, by the authority of Thurstan, Archbishop of York, gathered their flocks, and came, each priest at the head of his parishioners, to the place of a.s.sembly at York, where three days were spent in prayer and fasting; and then the old Archbishop administered to them an oath never to desert each other, and dismissed them with his blessing. Raoul, Bishop of Durham, was deputed by him to take the lead, and to have the charge of the consecrated standards of St. Cuthbert of Durham, St. Peter of York, St. John of Beverley, and St. Wilfred of Ripon. These were all suspended from one pole, like the mast of a vessel, surmounted by a cross, in the centre of which was fixed a silver casket, containing the consecrated wafer of the Holy Sacrament. The pole was fixed into a four-wheeled car, on which the Bishop stood. Such cars were much used in Italy, where each city had its own consecrated Gonfalone, on its caroccio, hung with scarlet cloth and drawn by oxen. The English collected under this sacred standard were the stout peasants of the North, the bowmen of Yorkshire and Nottinghamshire; each with a bow of his own height, and a sheaf of arrows two cubits long; and there were also many barons of Norman birth, of whom Walter L'Espee was the leader. Some of these barons held their lands under David of Scotland, as Earl of c.u.mberland, and two of them, Bernard Baliol and Robert Bruce, the last an old friend of the King, went to the Scottish camp, to remonstrate with him. Bruce begged him to retreat, described the horrors committed by his wild Scots, told him of the strength of the English force, and ended by declaring with tears that it would now become his duty to renounce his allegiance, and array himself against his beloved prince. Good King David shed tears, but William Macdonochie, the fierce lord of Galloway, burst out with the exclamation, "Bruce, thou art a false traitor!" and the insulted baron renounced all he held in Scotland, gave up his allegiance, and rode back to the English army, at Northampton, bringing tidings that the Scots were coming.

The host arrayed itself around their car, where the sacred standard waved above their head, and the Bishop of Durham addressed them from beneath it, reminding them of former victories. Walter L'Espee was the first to respond. Grasping the hand of the Earl of Albemarle, he exclaimed, "I pledge thee my troth that to-day I will overcome the Scots, or die!" "So swear we all," cried the other barons; and the whole host knelt down, the Bishop p.r.o.nounced over them the words of absolution, they replied with one mighty sound of united voices, "Amen!"

and arose. The knights and squires sat with gathered reins and knees in rest, the yeomen stood each with his good yew bow ready strung, awaiting the onslaught.

Less union was there in the hostile army, where it might be said that there was no authority, for David was unable to restrain his wild subjects from the North and West. The men of Galloway insisted on beginning the attack; but as they wore no defensive armor, and had no weapons but long, thin pikes, besides being more fierce than steady, the king hesitated. "Why trust to a plate of steel or rings of iron?"

exclaimed Malise of Strathern. "I, who wear no armor, will go as far as any one with breastplate of mail." "You brag of what you dare not do!"

said the Norman Alan de Percy. But the King found himself obliged to yield the precedence to the Galwegians, trusting far more to the lowland knights and men-at-arms, whom he arrayed under his gallant son, Prince Henry, while he himself commanded the reserve of Northern Scots.

The fierce Kelts of Galloway, guided by a tall spear, wreathed with heather blossom, and shouting, "Albin! Albin!" with harsh, dissonant cries like the roar of a tempest, fell headlong on the English ranks, and at first their fury carried them on so that they burst through them as if they had been a spider's web. But the Norman chivalry round the standard stood firm, and hewed down the undefended Galwegians, nor could the long claymores of the Highland clans, who next attacked them, break through their steel armor. The charge of Prince Henry's hors.e.m.e.n had more effect, and at one time the youth had almost won his way to the standard, when some traitor in the rear raised a b.l.o.o.d.y head on the point of a lance, shouting that the King was slain. In consternation the Scots gave back; the English saw their advantage, and pressed upon them: and though David rode forward and displayed the dragon standard which marked his presence (inherited from the Saxon kings), he could not rally them, and but just succeeded in protecting their flight to Carlisle, which then belonged to him as Earl of c.u.mberland.

This first of the long series of Scottish defeats was called the Battle of the Standard, from the banner of St. Cuthbert, which was always thought to bring success. It came forth at the battle of Nevil's Cross, and was again victorious, and it was preserved with great reverence till the Reformation, when, in 1549, Catherine Whittingham, the wife of the Dean of Durham, burnt it, out of zeal against Popery. It is some comfort that she was a Frenchwoman.

Stephen had left his Northern subjects to take care of themselves, because he was full of perplexities in the South. He had tried to please all parties, and by no means succeeded. He was a humane, kind-hearted man, and really wished to befriend the unfortunate Saxons; but, on the other hand, he was afraid to affront their Norman oppressors, whom he had allowed to build castles, and strengthen themselves in the very way which it had been Henry Beauclerc's policy to prevent. Almost every spot where green mounds and blocks of ma.s.sive masonry remain within an ancient moat, is said by tradition to have been "a castle in Stephen's time," and we wonder, considering that he reigned but nine years, how such immense works could have been effected. Dens of thieves they seem to have been, and misery and destruction reigned round them; while the least attempt on the King's part to restrain the ferocity of their owners was requited by a threat of bringing in our lady the Empress.

Her party became continually stronger, and Stephen, living in constant mistrust, added to it by offending several Bishops, even his own brother, Henry de Blois, by trying, to deprive them of their fortified castles. Next he made an attack on the Earl of Gloucester, who, being thus freed from his engagement to keep the peace, after repulsing Stephen, went to Normandy to fetch the Empress, and inform her that this was the time for establishing her right.

Maude, gladly accepted his invitation, but her husband Geoffrey seems to have been glad to be rid of her ungracious company, and chose to remain in Anjou. She landed in safety, for Stephen was at this time extremely ill, and her brother placed her in Arundel Castle, which belonged to her father's widow, Queen Alice, lately married to William de Albini, the ancestor of the n.o.ble line of Howard. Here Maude remained, while her brother went to his own estates to raise troops; but in the meantime Stephen recovered, and advanced on Arundel Castle. Queen Alice sent to tell him that her stepdaughter had come to seek her protection, and beg him not to make her do anything disloyal; and Stephen, who had many of the qualities of a courteous knight, forbore to make any personal attack on the ladies, but allowed the Empress to depart unmolested to meet Earl Robert.

He brought her to his castle at Bristol, where she remained two years, while the warfare was carried on in a desultory manner, chiefly by the siege of castles. At last Stephen laid siege to Lincoln, where Robert's daughter was, with her husband Ralf, Earl of Chester. Her father came to her relief with an army of 10,000 men. Stephen was advised to retreat; but he thought his honor concerned, and gave battle. His forces were soon overwhelmed; but he fought on desperately at the foot of his standard, so fiercely that no one dared to approach him, though his sword and battle-axe were both broken. At last a stone brought him to the ground, and a knight, named William Kames, grappled with him and held him fast; but even then he refused to yield the fragment of his sword to any but the Earl of Gloucester, who came up at the moment and prevented any further violence.

Stephen was given into the keeping of Countess Amabel, and Maude was conducted in state to Winchester, where Stephen's own brother, the Bishop, proclaimed her Queen, standing on the steps of the altar. Her uncle, King David, came to visit her, and she held her court with great splendor. It was here that she disgusted every one by her disdainful manners, and treated her cousin, Stephen's queen, with such harshness as to drive her to take up arms again. London had always been favorable to Stephen, and two months of negotiation were necessary before David and Robert could prevail on the citizens to receive her. At midsummer, however, they consented to admit her, and she came to Westminster; but as soon as a deputation of citizens were in her presence, she showed her pride and hostile spirit. They asked for charters; she replied by ordering them to bring money, and telling them they were very bold to talk of their privileges, when they had just been aiding her enemies.

Robert made speeches to try to soften matters, and David reasoned with her in vain, till she was convinced of her folly in a way for which he was little prepared. It is said that she actually flew at him and struck him; and if she could thus treat a royal uncle, how must not men inferior in rank have sped?

It was noon, and the deputies went home, as Maude thought, to dinner; but presently all the bells began to ring, and burghers, armed with bows and bills, began to swarm in the streets. The followers of the Empress were too few to resist; so, after a brief council, David galloped off to the North, and Robert rode with his sister to Oxford, while the Londoners opened their gates to Matilda, Stephen's wife, and her son Eustace.

Robert went to raise more forces, and Maude, hearing that Bishop Henry de Blois was conferring with his sister-in-law, sharply summoned him to her presence. He quietly made answer, "_Parabo me_"--I prepare myself; and Maude, in a pa.s.sion, set out, intending to surprise him at Wolvesley, his palace at Winchester. She found it well fortified, and laid siege to it from the castle at Winchester, where she was joined by her uncle and brother; and the town was in a miserable state, burnt by both parties in turn. Twenty churches and two convents were destroyed, and the Bishop took Knut's crown out of the Cathedral--to save it from the enemy, as was said, but it was never seen again. At last Eustace de Blois and his mother brought such a force that the Empress was besieged in her turn, and completely starved out. Her garrison resolved to break through the enemy at all risks, and on Sunday they set forth, Maude riding first with her uncle David, and Robert following with a band of knights, under a vow to die rather than let her be taken.

At Stourbridge the pursuers came up with them, many of the knights fell, and Robert was captured. So closely were the royal fugitives pursued, that David at one time was in the enemy's hands, and only escaped by the stratagem of his G.o.dson, David Olifant. Maude and one faithful knight, by the speed of their horses, reached Devizes, whence she was carried in a coffin to Gloucester.

Maude could not make up her mind to release her foe, Stephen, even for the sake of recovering her brother; but the Countess of Gloucester, considering the King as her own property, acted for herself, and exchanged him for her husband. Queen Matilda tried to make Robert promise to bring about peace, to secure England to Stephen, and Normandy to Maude; but he would make no engagements which he knew she would not observe, and matters continued in the same state.

CAMEO XVIII. THE SNOWS OF OXFORD. (1138-1154.)

_King of England_.

1135. Stephen.

_Kings of Scotland_.

1124. David I.

1153. Malcolm V.

_King of France_.

1137. Louis VII.

_Emperor Of Germany_.

1139. Konrad II.

_Popes_.

1130. Innocent II.

1143. Celestine II.

1144. Lucius II.

1145. Anastasius II.

1154. Adrian IV.

On the 1st of November, 1138, Stephen was set at liberty, and Robert of Gloucester, being exchanged for him, rejoined his sister the Empress at Gloucester; and during this time of quiet her fierce nature seems to have somewhat softened.

Stephen, meanwhile, had one of his terrible attacks of illness, in which he lay for hours, if not days, in a death-like lethargy, and, of course, his followers did nothing but build castles whenever the frost would let them work, prey on their neighbors, and make the state of the country far worse than it had been under any of the Normans of hated memory.

Maude's domain was in better order, as Robert's rule was modelled on that of his father's, in its best points. It is wonderful that Robert, whose mother was a princess by birth, and had been treated as a wife till the Etheling marriage had become a matter of policy, should have put forward no pretensions to the crown, but have uniformly given his staunch support to his proud and ungrateful sister. In a council held at Devizes in the course of the winter, it was decided that he should go to Normandy to entreat the Count of Anjou to bring succors to his wife.

Geoffrey, however, had no desire to return to her haughty companionship, and represented that there were still many castles in Normandy unsubdued. Robert gave efficient aid in taking these; but Geoffrey still could not persuade himself to meet his wife, though, at Robert's persuasion, he consented to give into his charge Henry, his eldest son, a boy of ten years old, with a large body of troops.

Maude had, in the meanwhile, been placed in the strong fortress at Oxford; but no sooner had Stephen recovered from his illness, than he collected his army, and marched southward. In the end of September he besieged her at Oxford, where at first she thought herself safe; but he crossed the river, set fire to the city in several places, and blockaded her in the castle.

Her n.o.bles collected at Wallingford, and sent defiances to Stephen to fight a pitched battle with them; but he knew his own advantage too well, and took no notice. Earl Robert, landing near Wareham, tried to create a diversion by besieging that seaport; but he could not draw the enemy off from Oxford. Famine prevailed in the castle, and, after much suffering, it became impossible for the garrison to hold out any longer.

The depth of winter had come, the ground was covered with snow, and the Isis was frozen over. Maude, whose courage never failed, caused herself and three of her knights to be dressed in white, and let down from the battlements upon the snow, where they were met by one of Stephen's men, whom they had gained over, and by him were led, unseen and unheard, through the camp of the enemy, hearing the call of the sentinels, and trembling with anxiety. For six miles they crept over the snow, and at last arrived at Abingdon, nearly frozen, for their garments had been far too scanty for the piercing weather; but they could not remain a moment for rest or warmth, but took horse, and never paused till they reached Wallingford Castle. Thither, so soon as the news reached Earl Robert, he brought her young son, and her troubles were forgotten in her joy.

Thence she repaired with her son to Bristol Castle, where the boy remained under the care of a learned tutor named Matthew, who instructed him under the superintendence of Earl Robert.

This great Earl deserved the name of Beauclerc almost as well as his father; he was well read, and two histories were dedicated to him, William of Malmesbury's, and Geoffrey of Monmouth's wonderful chronicle of the old British kings, whose blood flowed in Robert's veins; that chronicle--wrought out of queer Welsh stories--that served as a foundation for Edward's claims on Scotland, and whence came our Lear and Cymbeline.

All that knightly training could do for young Henry was done by Earl Robert, and the boy so far answered to his care as to have that mixture of scholarliness and high spirit that was inherent in the Norman and Angevin princes. But the shrewd unscrupulousness and hard selfishness of the Norman were there, too--the qualities from which n.o.ble Gloucester himself was free. It may be, however, that the good Earl did not see these less promising characteristics of his ward; for, after five years of the boy's residence at Bristol, and the old desultory warfare between the partisans of King and Empress, Count Geoffrey sent for his son, to take leave of him before going on a crusade; and while Henry was absent, Earl Robert died, in 1147. It speaks much for Henry Beauclerc's court that such men should have grown up in it as Robert of Gloucester and David of Scotland.

Geoffrey, in the meantime, paid a visit to his younger brother, Baldwin III. of Jerusalem, a very gallant prince. On his return, Maude came back to him, and after their eight years' absence, they met with affection they never had shown to one another before. She did not attempt to take the government of Normandy, but left it wholly in Geoffrey's hands.

Stephen, meanwhile, was unmolested in England till 1149, when Henry sailed for Scotland, there to be knighted by his uncle, King David; while, curiously enough, his younger brother Geoffrey was at the very same time knighted by Stephen's elder brother, Theobald, Count de Blois.

It was a year of grief to that excellent King, who suffered a great affliction in the death of the chivalrous Henry, his only son, and the father of a numerous infant family. His barons feared he would sink under his sorrow, and came to comfort him; but they found him cheerful.

"I ought not to lament my son's being taken away from me," he said, "since he is gone to enjoy the fellowship of my parents and my brethren, of whose souls the world was no longer worthy. Should I mourn, it would be to arraign the goodness and justice of G.o.d for removing him to the mansions of bliss before me. I should rather be thankful, and rejoice that the Almighty endowed my son with so much grace to behave himself in a manner to be so beloved and lamented. Soon do I hope to follow, and, being delivered from temporal miseries, to enjoy a blessed eternity with the saints in light."

It was shortly after this that Aelred, the good Abbot of Rivaux, came to Dunfermline, on the affairs of his order; and in the presence of this holy man, the adopted brother of his beloved Henry, one of the four promising boys who had gladdened the early days of his reign, the King's grief broke freely forth, though still it was not the sorrow of one who had no hope. He told Aelred he saw in this calamity a punishment for the devastation he had caused in his invasion of England, and would fain have laid down his royalty, and spent the rest of his days in penitence in a convent; but he was persuaded to relinquish the design, and guard the crown for his grandsons. He shed tears as he tenderly embraced Aelred, and both felt it was their last meeting.

David did not long survive his son. He appointed his eldest grandchild, Malcolm, to succeed him, and set his affairs in order, redoubling all his pious and charitable acts. One of the last things he was heard to say, was, "Lord, I restore Thee the kingdom wherewith Thou didst entrust me. Put me in possession of that whereof the inhabitants are all kings."

He was soon after found dead, in the att.i.tude of devotion. His body was buried at Dunfermline, and his name added to the list of Scottish saints.

His grandsons, Malcolm, William, and David, were all good and valiant men.

Waltheof, his stepson, lived peaceably at Melrose, strict in rule, gentle in manners, and peculiarly humble in demeanor, and poor in dress.

He once had occasion to meet King Stephen, and rode in among the barons in their armor, only clad in his coa.r.s.e serge frock, and mounted, on an old gray horse. His brother Simon, who stood by the King, was displeased, and said, "See, my lord, how my brother and thy kinsman does honor to his lineage." He met with a reply he little expected. "If thou and I had only the grace to see it," said Stephen, "he is an honor indeed to us. He adorns our race, as the gem does the gold in which it is set!" And when he had parted with the meek abbot, Stephen exclaimed, with tears, "This man has put all worldly things under his feet; but we are presuming after this fleeting world, and losing both body and soul in the chase."

This must indeed have, been brought home soon after to Stephen, by the fate of his wretched son Eustace. This fiery youth had desired to be crowned in his father's lifetime; but Archbishop Theobald, and all his suffragans, perceiving that this would prevent the only hope of peace on Stephen's death, steadily refused, though the King shut them all up in his hall, and threatened them violently. The next year, when the treaty was made by which Henry of Anjou was to reign after Stephen, Eustace was so enraged at finding himself excluded from the succession, that he rushed off, accompanied by a party of lawless young men, and ravaged all Cambridgeshire, committing dreadful excesses. It is to be hoped that he was already under the influence of the brain-fever which came on in a few days' time, immediately after he had pillaged Bury St. Edmund's, and of which he died; leaving a belief among the country people, that, like King Sweyn, he had been struck by the avenging hand of the Saint himself. His father, King Stephen, only lived a few months after, worn out by the toils and troubles which he had brought on himself by his own ambition. His son William, who would have opposed Henry's accession, was prevented, by breaking his leg by a fall from his horse, and Henry peaceably gained the throne. His mother, Empress Maude, had in the meantime retired to Anjou, where she led a quiet life, giving up her rights to her son, and apparently profiting by the lesson she had been taught when her prosperity was turned at its full tide by her own pride and presumption.

Of the boys bred up in the good household of Dunfermline, Aelred was the last survivor. Waltheof had the happiness, before his death, of seeing his brother, the proud Earl Simon of Northampton, repent heartily, leave his evil courses, found churches, and endow the convent of Waldon, which he had once persecuted for sheltering his brother. Waltheof was elected to be Bishop of St. Andrews, and Aelred, as head of the Cistercians in Britain, came to Melrose, to order him, on his canonical obedience, to accept the see. But Waltheof was weak in health, and knew that another call had gone forth. He pointed to a stone slab on the floor of the chapter-house. "There," said he, "is the place of my rest. Here will be my habitation, among my children."